


Angels Unaware

by hutchabelle



Category: The Hunger Games
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-10
Updated: 2016-09-10
Packaged: 2018-08-14 07:43:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8004175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hutchabelle/pseuds/hutchabelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This drabble is an in-Panem AU and makes reference to Hebrews 13:2. </p><p>It was written for d12drabbles, prompt 2--Supernatural.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Angels Unaware

The wind howled outside the house as Katniss threw another log on the fire. Sparks flew as the wood hit the pile, and the red embers spiraled into the darkness of the chimney. She shifted the pot that hung on the hook and heaved a heavy sigh at the paltry meal that boiled into a watery mess. Tears pricked the corners of her eyes as she swirled the wooden spoon in the liquid. The soup had to last them through the rest of the week, and it was barely enough for a few meals at best.

 

“Everything’s going to be okay, Katniss.” His voice washed over her, and she startled at the sound of his velvety tone.

 

“Is it?” she wondered aloud, her gaze glued to the red coals that only emitted enough heat to warm the few feet closest to the hearth.

 

A melancholy smile twitched on her lips as his heavy tread betrayed his movement across the room. His hands grasped her shoulders in an attempt to ease the tension between her shoulder blades, but she couldn’t relax. She leaned into him, relieved that his solidness didn’t waver even when it felt like the world was falling apart.

 

“I’ll go by the bakery tomorrow and ask my dad for a couple of extra loaves of bread. He won’t mind.”

 

She nodded, too disheartened to answer. It hurt her pride to admit they needed help, but Peeta and she had suffered a rash of bad luck over the past year. They were broke, short on food, and struggling through one of the worst winters Panem had seen in half a century. Something had to give soon, especially with the baby on the way.

 

She hadn’t been pregnant long. In fact, she hadn’t yet figured out how to tell her husband, especially since he was already working two jobs to support them—one helping his father in the bakery and the other deep in the mines of District 12. Mrs. Mellark had passed unexpectedly just months after their toasting ceremony, and Katniss often wondered if Peeta’s defiance in choosing her over his mother’s wishes had contributed to the woman’s demise. Although there was no love lost between Katniss and her late mother-in-law, she hated that her husband had lost his parent. However, she was grateful Mr. Mellark had employed his youngest son at the family bakery since it would never have happened if she were still alive.

 

Peeta working in the mines was much more terrifying for her. Since his shift at the bakery ended in the early afternoon, he’d insisted on taking a second job when their situation worsened. Every day she cursed the crackdown by Head Peacekeeper Thread that resulted in a continuously electrified fence and no fresh game. She hadn’t been able to hunt in months, and their diet grew more and more sparse as a result.

 

Now she was pregnant, despite their numerous precautions and intentions to wait, and she had no idea how to tell Peeta without him insisting on coming up with another way to supplement their income. She barely saw him at it was between her job helping Rooba dress meat at the butcher shop and his incessant need to provide for his family. The thought of seeing him any less made her heart hurt.

 

A knock at the door startled them both, and Peeta indicated he’d get it and for her to stay put. Assuming he’d be back soon, she remained in front of the fire. They weren’t expecting anyone. Her mom and sister were providing care for several flu patients, and his dad and brothers hadn’t visited since they’d married. She heard quiet murmurs from the door but was shocked when Peeta said, “Katniss, we have visitors.”

 

Mouth gaping, she whipped her head around to face him. How in the world could they have company? The Capitol didn’t allow movement between the districts, and they knew practically everyone in District 12. Yet, there they stood behind Peeta, two men in ragged clothes and covered in coal dust. Rising, she wrapped her sweater tighter around herself and nodded to them.

 

“Welcome to our home. We don’t have much,” she admitted softly. She would have been suspicious of them except for their shoddy clothing and weary expressions. Their eyes lacked hope, and Katniss felt a surge of protectiveness for these miserable strangers who had found their way to her door in the middle of a blizzard.

 

Neither of the strangers spoke much; they simply ate the watery gruel placed before them and politely answered Peeta’s questions in monosyllables and short phrases. Katniss marveled at how they could be so succinct and still maintain such courtesy to their hosts. She glanced down often and realized she was unconsciously cradling her unborn child, perhaps to protect it from possible harm. Eventually, though, she realized she had nothing to fear; the men were harmless. Straightening in her chair, she leaned her elbows on the edge of the table and studied her husband while he entertained the guests.

 

Peeta’s fair hair fell over his brow just as it had when he’d first courted her, but his forehead was creased with a few wrinkles and his shoulders slumped under the pressure of surviving in the Seam. His capable hands still created beautiful flowers, but he hadn’t painted or sketched in months, perhaps years. Although still a bright blue, his eyes lacked a child-like innocence that he’d managed to maintain in spite of how hard his early years had been. He was still her Peeta, but she almost wept at the strain she knew their circumstances had created for him—for them both, if she was honest.

 

Katniss jerked back to attention when Peeta and the two men rose from the table. She bolted upright and pressed into her husband’s side. His arm snaked around her back and anchored her against him. She ducked her head when one of the visitors studied her intensely and breathed a sigh of relief when they turned and exited the small house with grateful goodbyes.

 

“Strange,” she mumbled.

 

“The men or the visit?”

 

“Both.”

 

Pressing an absent-minded kiss on her forehead, he agreed. “Yes, but I couldn’t refuse on such a horrible night. Neither would you.”

 

A melancholy smile quirked at her lips. He was right. It seemed like he always was, but that didn’t change the fact that now their paltry food source would be depleted long before the week was over when provisions from the Capitol were delivered.

 

“There’s nothing left that we can do tonight. No leftovers to put away. Let’s go to bed,” he suggested, and she agreed.

 

Their bed provided one of the best refuges from the brutal poverty and despair of District 12. No matter how bad the day had been, Katniss always found pleasure under the covers with her husband. It was there that they were the most open and honest with each other and where they gave everything they were to each other. It’s also where Peeta had given her a baby. Despite the wind and cold outside, Katniss fell asleep warm, comforted, and sated in her husband’s arms.

 

His gentle shake woke her early the next morning. It was still dark outside, which wasn’t surprising since Peeta always rose for his job at the bakery before sunrise.

 

“Katniss, darling, wake up,” he urged. She yawned and stretched before opening her eyes. He beamed down at her, and she wondered what could have happened to wipe away the worry and anxiety he’d borne for far too long.

 

“What’s happened?” She worked hard to keep her voice steady, unwilling to allow her hopes to burgeon without knowing the source of his excitement.

 

He dragged her to the hearth and motioned to the pot boiling over the fire. Slabs of dried meat hung from the mantle, and two large bags of flour and sugar rested on the table. Her hands flew to her mouth but not before a disbelieving gasp escaped.

 

“H-how?” she whispered, unable to comprehend how such a treasure trove of food had appeared in their home overnight.

 

“I found this,” he explained and handed her a slip of paper. She took it with trembling hands and read.

 

> _Your generosity in the face of such poverty combined with the sheer love and adoration you have for each other moved us last night. The food is yours. Use it to help your growing family and anyone else you love. Remember, do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for thereby some have entertained angels unaware._

 

“Growing family,” she murmured and instinctively placed her hand on her stomach.

 

“Katniss?”

 

Raising her eyes, she blinked away tears of gratitude and nodded.


End file.
